The Proof
by CriminalMindsChick6
Summary: Just a oneshot I felt a little inspired to do. The rebellion is over, but Katniss and Peeta still face the struggles in their everyday lives back in District 12. Peeta's flashbacks are hard on Katniss too, but can he prove to her he's stronger than them?


"Peeta!" I called throughout the house. He would probably be in one of the upstairs rooms, painting. Something he always did when the nightmares returned. It had faded out over the last few months, but every so often he would want to lock himself in a room, and be absorbed by the colours on his canvas again; trying to blot out the black and greys that filled his mind with bright pinks and oranges.

After a minute, there was an opening and closing of a door and heavy footsteps down the stairs. I rolled my eyes. He's never been one for treading lightly. Things like these used to irritate me, get under my skin. But now, these same traits were a comfort to me. The familiarity was soothing.

"Yes?" He said as he appeared at the kitchen doorway. Sure enough, his white shirt had flicks of the rainbow splashed onto it.

"Dinner, that's all." I said, wondering why he hadn't smelt it as soon as he'd set foot downstairs. I gestured behind me to where the hare laid out onto plates with an assortment of vegetables and potatoes spread with butter. Then I looked up and saw the flicker of deeply buried pain in his eyes; something far back in his mind, something that he had probably lashed out at the paper with. A long lost memory, maybe even a fake one. Either way, he hadn't been in reality.

"Oh right, I'm sorry, I forgot what time it was." He replied, stepping into the kitchen. I tried not to take notice of the fact that he edged around me slightly, untrusting of himself to let his skin come into contact with mine, not on days like this.

"Smells great Katniss." He said smiling, trying to show me he was appreciative but I could see that his thoughts were still far away from the dinner table. I bit back tears, letting my teeth sink in to the side of my cheek, pulling the soft skin away and drawing blood. These flashbacks were less frequent then they were even a year ago. But the events were still so fresh in both our minds that some days are harder than others. I'm not sure what triggered it this time, if it was something I'd said or done, or if it was simply random, but I could tell he was fighting back a dark urge.

I turned away from him as he sat at the table, and leant over some leftovers on the counter top. As I picked at the potatoes in the bowl, I cleared my throat, wanting my voice to come out even, so as not to upset him further. He tried so hard after all, and I need to too.

"I think I'm going to just go and drop some food off at Haymitch's. There's plenty left and I can get some more fresh game tomorrow if I go hunting." I said, not wanting to face him. I heard him put down his fork that he'd only just picked up. I wasn't sure what was coming. It could be an insult or a break down. Either way, I wasn't prepared, not today. It was too hard for me too.

I dreamt about her last night. Those dreams went away for a while, but their void was filled with other scarring and equally horrifying nightmares. I'm still not sure to this day if I appreciate seeing her in my sleep, or would rather just dream of the darkness. Peeta was my main priority, and I was his. But there are moments when, because of the rawness, we had to depend upon ourselves.

"Katniss..." He began, knowing where this was going, knowing my plan to escape the house for a little while to allow him to eat more peacefully.

Without the urge to kill me.

"I hope he eats it all this time." I started saying, shovelling some vegetables onto an extra plate for him, trying to ignore Peeta. "Last time I took him something, he flung half of it out the window. That last white liquor was bad, even for him." I concentrated on the tumbling colors of the food. I reached for a knife in the drawer underneath me, but then hesitated at last minute. I was reminded of images of Plutarch telling me that Peeta sees me as a threat in these situations, not knowing what's real or what had been concocted. I decided this wasn't a good idea. The last thing he'd need was me standing a few feet away from him, wielding a weapon.

"Katniss." He stated more angrily than last time. I knew he was just trying to get my attention, but I couldn't bring myself to stop, so I continued, just plucking at the hare. It wasn't as if Haymitch was big for hygiene anyway, I figured it wouldn't hurt to use my hands. "You know what; I may just take that stuff away from him if he's passed out and replace it with something weaker. Have we got any of that-"

"KATNISS!"

At the shout I knew would probably come, I put down the piece of meat I held onto the plate, exhaled slowly, and turned to face him. However his face wasn't angry or confused like it normally is when he makes outbursts during times like these. It was sad. His eyes had lost their sparkle that I love so much, and his eyebrows were drawn in worry.

"Haymitch doesn't have to be your responsibility, not tonight." He said quietly, his face a light red from the concentration he had to exert. "Please, it's okay, we can sit together to eat."

I stared at him for a moment, unsure what to do. It was always best to leave him when he was like this. But there was a tone to his voice I couldn't ignore.

"Please." He said again as he sensed my uncertainty.

"Peeta, it's really no problem. I'm more than happy to leave and go to Haymitch's." I said genuinely. If I was the one causing him pain in any way, then whatever I could do to stop it was what I wanted.

"Yeah right, like anyone is ever happy to go to Haymitch's. Even you." He replied.

This was true, and I couldn't fool anyone otherwise. So I gingerly walked over to the other side of the table. I wasn't afraid he would hurt me, not really. I knew he had more control than that. They made sure of it before they sent him back to 12. But I couldn't bear the thought of him digging his fingernails into his palms in an attempt to bring himself back into the present. As I sat down opposite him, he smiled weakly. The pain in his eyes had diminished a little.

"I love you." He said suddenly. And as I looked up from the plate that I was just about to touch, I saw that his eyes had welled up with tears. The lump in my own throat threatened to blossom into something more. His eyes were completely gone of the confused pain, and this time I could see it was because of me, what I've done. Ignoring him and about to run away. Like I always do, like I always have. Even if I thought it was for the best.

"I love you too." I replied without even thinking. A rogue tear spilt its way down my cheek. He reached out his hand across the table, ignoring the food in front of him. I flinched, not sure what to expect, and saw the agony that it caused him; that I would even consider him injuring me. I pulled out my own hand, stretching to meet his, and entwined our fingers together.

"Always." He spoke again.

"Always." I said back to him. Both of our tears were coming down freely now.

"It's getting better, it really is." Peeta assured me, smoothing his thumb over my hand.

"I know." Is all I could bring myself to say. The smell of the freshly cooked meal now made me slightly nauseous as it wafted into my nostrils. My mind is whirred back to the face of evil, pure white evil. The bitterness lingered on the tip of my tongue, as I don't have to try hard to recall his face and the sickening smell that comes with it. I fought for so long to end his life, to make him suffer the way he made them. But now that he was dead and gone, it felt no better. For Peeta was still alive, and here with me, but his mind was elsewhere. He took a part of Peeta with him to the grave.

A part that he is fighting so hard for internally right now.

"I'm sorry I'm causing you pain." I whispered through the thickness of sobs as I looked down at our skin joined together, linking us into one being.

"The only way you could cause me pain is by not being here with me." He said in response, never breaking his gaze with me. "I will not let them win. I have more control now." Peeta murmured softly.

I felt my shoulders hunch over. How could I believe him when all he does is lock himself in the rooms for hours, away from me. Can he really control what the monsters so powerfully implanted into his soul?

I dropped my sight to my lap and felt his warm touch leave my fingertips. By the time I looked up to see what had happened, he was crouching at the side of my chair, balancing on his toes. With me being so small, he was practically at my level. I swivelled slowly to face him.

"You don't believe me?" He said, as he gently touched my knee. I felt the electricity soar through my veins. The spark was still there, as always.

"I want to. I just don't know how." I mumbled, ashamed I could feel this way about the boy I loved so much. How am I supposed to when he is in one of his darkest flashbacks of tampered-with memories? I can still see it lingering behind the irises of his eyes despite the more prominent emotions at the front, battling for victory.

"Then I'll prove it to you."

With that, he reached forward and placed his lips onto mine. The warmth that was in his fingers existed in his mouth too. I responded, with that sudden same hunger that time in the cave, and the time on the beach. The type of hunger that stops you from caring about the world around you. Only wanting your tongue to enfold his, to pull yourself further into him. He seemed to feel the same hunger too, despite what I thought about him not being able to conquer the more gruesome memories that usually overtook this one. He wrapped his arms around my waist, inching himself closer to me and hoisting himself up a little until our chests touched. I felt his heartbeat thudding through mine, echoing off my rib cages and into my soul. One of his hands moved up and clasped my neck with a butterfly touch and I knew that he could feel every pulse in my veins. Taking my own hand, I moved my fingers through his blonde locks with trepidation, not wanting him to misinterpret the gesture. But he immediately seized my other hand too, and placed it on his neck carefully, showing me he had control over the more aggressive urges inside of him. Lost in the moment I moved the hand on his neck to the top of his back, gently scraping my fingers over his shirt. Just then, I suddenly used every inch of self control I had within me to break away from him so that I could see his eyes, his beautiful eyes close to mine. I needed to check that he wasn't hurting, to make sure he was okay. But as soon as they locked onto each other, I could tell they were only in the moment.

"Is that enough proof for you?" Peeta asked smiling, his lips still hovered close to mine.

I nodded.

_After all, the only thing stronger than fear is hope. Hope, that someday it would all be okay._

And with that I gave in to the hunger once and for all, and let it consume us both.


End file.
